How I Met My Best Friend
by TheUltimateMexican
Summary: Adriana Corriedo Vargas, a Mexican girl who just recently arrived to the United States, just can't seem to learn when to keep her nose out of other people's business. Because of her undying curiosity, she meets and saves a Russian transfer student from being beaten to a pulp by a masked troublemaker.


**Okay, for those waiting for me to update "Slavery", please be patient. I'm still developing it and trying to make my horrible spelling not so horrible. SO! without further ado, please enjoy this apology one-shot I totally didn't improvise on the spot!**

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Freedom.

According to my parents, that's what the United States represented. It was supposedly a land of opportunities, of liberties and unconditional equality. Everyone was supposed to be at peace here, and work was supposed to be easy to find. I was supposed to be accepted for who I was and not to be judged by my past.

What a joke.

It was true that this country was a melting pot of ethnicities and different racial backgrounds, but the nation was far from equal. Ever since we got here a week ago, I've seen nothing but segregation; in schools, at work, even at the park little groups of different racial kids could be seen. The Chinese would be in one corner, the Mexicans on the other playing soccer, the white kids nowhere to be seen and the rest of the ethnicities just spread out like jam on toast.

It made me sick.

For days, I couldn't make any friends, and my parents acted as if it was my fault. My parents were two men, a gay couple, who met on a vocational trip to Guadalajara, Mexico, during the winter. They had dated while in the city, and later tried a long-distance relationship when each went back to their respective countries. My father, Antonio (who is a Spaniard), proposed to my "mother", Lovino (who is Italian) and got married in the place they met. Soon after, they adopted me in the same city, and later decided to move to the States.

So now I'm here, a sixteen year-old Mexican female, wandering around a foreign nation looking at foreign customs. I know that the only reason we moved here was so that my "mom" could get a better job in the painting industry, and I knew that our life here was a little better than back in the south, but sometimes I can't help but blame my parents for my current misery.

My English has an accent, and it has gotten me in trouble more than once before. I'm friendless too, so standing up to bullies is really hard for me, and whenever I try to get some friends, I get shunned or left behind as they go through their usual routine. Sometimes, the bullying and loneliness get so bad, that I get tired of pretending to smile and consider just curling up in ball and die at the bottom of a sewer.

This was one of those days. I was walking home, my steps slow and pained as I practically dragged my feet on the sidewalk. My head hurt, I had an enormous black-eye from a stupid bully who decided I'd make a nice punching bag, and my knees were bleeding from trying to escape him and falling on the basketball court. To top it all off, it was raining and my new clothes were ripped and muddy. My head pounded as I imagined the faces my poor parents would make when they saw me arrive in this state. Boy, they'd be pissed.

Just as I was thinking that, I heard muffled screams coming from a dark alley-way to my left. I knew I would get in trouble, but I couldn't help but be curious of what was going on. So, without a second thought, I rushed to the source of the sound and spied on the subjects.

There was a tall, masked man kicking and punching an ash-blonde boy on the ground, whom was screeching and screaming for help. The boy had tears in his eyes, and the towering masked adult hissed and shouted for him to shut up and give him all his money. I was trembling as I watched the scene, horrified. I wanted to help him so badly, but what could I do? I myself had been beaten up earlier, and I hardly had any strength to even walk anymore, let alone help somebody out. And besides, what could a weak girl like me do against a full grown man? It was completely illogical.

Nevertheless, he was a victim, and I couldn't just stand there like an idiot since, after all, silence helps the aggressor, not the victim. So, as the guy crouched down to shake the beaten blonde on the ground, I sneaked up behind him and slammed my bad as hard as I could on his head, making a loud SLAP at the impact. My plan was to make him faint and then drag the blonde out of the alley, but, as fate would have it, all I managed to do was make the man angrier.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The man asked as he started to stand and face me.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" I asked, trying to make myself sound menacing. I never really learned when to back out, and it was too late to even consider that now. "I'm here to teach you a lesson! You need to learn how to pick on people your own size, creep!"

The man just laughed.

"Oh really now?" He asked, making shivers go down my spine as he took a step forward. If he was trying to intimidate me, he was doing a darn good job at it. "You and what army?"

Suddenly, the blonde who had been on the floor earlier launched himself to the man's back and brought him down full force, purposely slamming his head on the ground and effectively knocking him out. Before I knew it, I was following a running blonde out the alleyway and into a park, stopping under a tree. I panted as I tried to even my breath back to normal, the boy beside me doing the same.

"Spasibo," he said suddenly. I looked up at him and realized for the first time that he was wearing the same school uniform as me. "Spasibo for saving me. I really owe you one, comrade."

"Adriana," I said, offering him my hand to shake. "You can call me Adriana."

"Ivan Braginski," he said in a heavy Russian accent. He was actually quite tall, almost reaching six feet, and his eyes were the most peculiar purple color. I wondered briefly if they were contacts before dismissing it completely.

"Nice to meet you," I said coolly. He stared at me for a while, making me uncomfortable. I was about to ask if there was something on my face, when I remembered the black-eye I had gained previously that day. I covered it quickly and he cleared his throat.

"So, you go to United High?" he asked, a bit red in the face. "I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, I just arrived a few days ago," I answered. "My parents and I just moved recently to this country. The country of equality."

He seemed to have noticed my sarcasm, for he laughed and nodded in agreement.

"I know what you mean. My parents brought me here about three years ago from Russia," he said, cringing. "I guess we've both attracted the wrong type of attention in a short time, huh?"

"Yeah…," I sighed.

We stood there in awkward silence before he cleared his throat once again.

"Well, uh, thanks again for bailing me out," he said. "May I walk you home? If your parents ask, I can try to help explain what happened."

"That would be great," I smiled. "Gracias, Ivan. Thank you."

And with that, we walked towards my apartment. We ended up making a story up for how my bruses got on my skin, and they eventually agreed to let Ivan stay for dinner. We exchanged phone numbers and began to hang out at school almost every day. I don't know what happened to the guy from the alley, but I don't really care.

I don't really know if I can call this place "the land of opportunities and equality" either, but I do know this: if it hadn't been for this messed up melting pot, I would've never met my best friend. Not even if I had gone to Russia.

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**Thanks so much for reading guys! I promise i'll update my other story as soon as i can! I promise!**

**Hasta la Pasta~!**


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